

EARTHQUAKE. 

Spectacular Drama. 

e/dptebeeck, 

IN THREE ACTS, 



KAHRS & WELCH. 

— Printers and Binders — 

175 East Bay. Charleston, S. C. 



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EARTHQUAKE. 




Spectacular Drama. 



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E,- DPTEBEECK, 



IN THREE ACTS 



KAHRS & WELCH. 

— Printers and Binders — 
175 East Bay. Charleston, S, C. 




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COPYRIGHT 1890. 



■BY- 



IHTJO-EnSTE OlPXEBEJBOI^' 



TMP96-a06354 



i 

Cast of Characters. 

Mr. Charles Wilson... Whose prophecy comes true that the 

earth will tremble. 

Mr. Henry Chase A villian in fine clothes 

Mr. James Rodman The father of Jennie 

Mr. William Bangs Keeper of tavern 

Mr. LungSinc? One Chinaman who gets there 

Mrs .Betsy Bangs Bangs' better half 

Miss Susan Bell Too sweet too live 

Miss Jennie Rodman The heroine 

And Miners. 

(5|y 



r 



ACT I 

IN CHARLKSTON. 

(Scene. — In the Rodman House. — Mr. Rodman at sideboard 
drinking}) 

For thirteen years (ic) ever since Jennie's mother died, I have 
drank until (ic) I drink no more. [H'xit,] 

{Enter Susan, dusting.) — There he goes again. I dont know 
what is to become of the master if he keeps on this way- 
Why! it was only last week that he came home so paral}'zed 
that it nearly broke poor missus little heart, but like her, she 
would stick to him through thick and Hiiin, and, there that 
Henry Chase; I know missus dont care a snap of her finger 
for him, but she is awfully sweet on Charlie. (In) But how 
her face lights up when she sees him. Isuppose it will turn 
out as like in the theatre the ther night when my Willie took 
me. 

{Knock at the door. — Enter Henpy Chase. — Siis at table.) 

Is Mr. Rodman in? 

{Susan.) — Yes sir! but he is sleeping, sir! 

(77. Chase.) — Well, tell him I want to seehin., and be quick 
about it. 

{Susan.) — Yes, sir! but what must I tell him, sir? 

{H. Chase.) — Tell him Mr. Chase desires to see him on busi- 
ness at once. 

{Snsan.) — Yes, sir! {aside) I dont like him, he has the cut 
of a deep dyed villain, [Exit.] 

{H. Chase.) — It seems as if every one hates me in this house, 
but I think I hold the winning cards with a mortgage over 
Rodman's head. I'll yet win his daughter; she refused me 
once, but I will yet make her bow her proud head to me. 

{Enter Mr. Rodinan.) 

{Mr, Chase.) — Good morning, Mr. Rodman! 

{Mr. Rodman) — Good morning, sir! 

{Both sit do^cun.) 

{Mr. Chase.) — I have called to see you, Mr. Rodman, on -a 
subject which I hope will meet with your approval. I love 
your daughter, Jennie, and it is one of the greatest wishes of 
my life to make her my wife. I will giv€ her a luxurious 



home. In fact, everything to make her happy. 

{Mr. Rodman, rising very angry) — Stop, Mr. Chase; a man 
with your reputation as a sporting man of Charleston! Never 
sir! God knows I've have drag her down enough myself. 

{Mr. Chase, rising excited) — So this is my answer after all 
I done for you. 

{Mr. Rodman) — Yes, final answer. 

{H. Chase) — So I am refused like a dog. Well, let it be _ 
but you forget that 1 hold a mortgage on this house, yes, and 
everytliing in it too, so that you need expect no mercy from 
me, for out you go to-morrow. 

{M!\ Rodman) — For God sake, dont do that, anything but 
that. I will be your slave. 

{Ml . Chase) — Enough, consent to this marriage and I wilj 
give you a receipt for the mortgage and 35. 000 or else 

{M; . Rodman) — Give me till to-morrow to think it over. 

{Mr. 672^5^'.)- Not a day nor an hour. 

{Mr, Rodman, sadly) — Well, I consent. 

{H. Chase) — But there is one obstacle in the way. 

{Mr, Rodman) — And what is that? 

{H. Chase) — Charles Wilson. 

{Mr. Rodman) — I will settle him. 

{H. Chase) — But you forget that he saved her life once, and 
she will love him for that. 

{Mr. Rodman) — Never fear, I will fix him, 

{H, Chase, going to door) — Remember, I will stand no 
wailing. [Exit.] 

{Mr. Rodman) — Alas, I have doomed my child to a liyino- 
death. [Exit.] 

{Enter Jennie, )—Song, ''MY LOVE" 
Words by E. Optebeeck. Music by Hoffman. 

I know tis' hard to part like this 

To roam torever more, 

To think of those who parted thus 

Whose love has ner been more. 

Tis hard for those who loved like this 

When days is passing o'er. 



And longing is my weary heart 
To part for never more, 
To part for never more. 

2 
No time shall ever part us thus 
The love we loved before, 
Tis harder yet to leave you thus 
When days is passing oe'i . 
The passing years must come and go 
Whom we may see no more, 
But I'll wait for thee as err before 
To part for never more, 
To part for never more. 

Chorus My love, my only love 

My hope thou ere be true. 
For now and ever and forever 
I love no one but thee, 

I wonder what brings Henry Chase here. Ever since I re- 
fused him he has kept dodging my steps; but sooner than mar- 
ry him, I would as leave be dead. But I wonder what keeps 
Charlie. I have never known him to keep away so long. 

{^Charlie Wilson enters.) — Ahem! ahem! may I come in, Jen- 
nie? 

{Jennie.) — Why certainly, you old goose, you are always 
welcome. 

{Charlie) — I know I always has a welcome from you, but 
not from the old man. But Jennie, I have something espe- 
cially to say to you. Jennie, the fact is I ah, I ah, {aside) (oh 
how in the mischief will I state it) the fact is, Jennie, you might 
have seen for a long time my affection for you. I may say 
love ever since the time I seen you struggling in the waters, 
and when you held up your little hands for me to save you, I 
have learnt to, yes, dared to love you. I dontask for any prom- 
ise, but only give me some hope. I start for the far West to- 
morrow, but before I go away, is there any hope for me. Be- 
fore Henry Chase came here, I believed you love me. 

{Jenitie.) — Love Henry Chase! never, I as soon as marry the 



commonest man in the street. 
- {Cha7'lie.) — Then you do love me once again. 
{Jiuiiie.) — My heart has always been yours ever since you 
saved me on that terrible night. [Embraces her.) 

Song by Charlie. "LOVE ME ONCE AGAIN." 

Words by E. Optebeeck. Music by Hoffman. 

I wander by the loving place 
Where there we used to go, 
And long again to see }'Our face 
To see your face once more. 
And loving vows plighted there 
Beneath the old oak tree, 
When I will know how true you were 
And I to you and to me. 

2 
As memory drifts to our childhood days 
To our youth that be no more, 
And think of our happy days 
That will never com.e no more. 
But dreams like these must past away 
For soon we'll be no more, 
Those pleasant are those childhood days 
But we'll never see no more. 

Chorus Oh love me once again 
Beneath the old oak tree, 
Shall it wait again 
Shall it wait for me? 

{Charlie.) — Now Jennie, I start to-morrow, and I must get 
yoijr father's consent before I leave you. 

{Je7i7iie.) — So soon! and I am afraid you will not have such 
an easy time of it, for I believe father intends to marry me to 
hat man, but I will always be true to you. (Embraces her.) 



Song "I'LL ALWAYS BP: TRUK TO YOU." 

By Jennie and Charlie. 

Words by E. Optebeeck. Music by Hoffman. 

Oh wait a moment, I beg thee stay 
ni always be true to you, 
Oh promise me, its the only way 
I'll always be true to you, 

2 

Though many years may come and go 

I'll always be true to you, 

Though you come and find an old maid in store 

I'll always be true to you. 

3 
I promise, yes, promise that 
I'll always be uue to you, 
I promise too, promise what! 
Ill always be true to you. 

4 
Though I come to you like a common spy 
I'll always be true to you, 
Then come to you with a great big lie 
I'll always be true to you. 

Chorus Yes! I'll always be true to you 
Always be true to you, 
Though miles away I'll think of you 
I'll always be true to you. 

{Charlie.) — Never fear, I will get his consent; for when I 
have yours, that is half the battle. So run and call him. (Ex- 
it, Jennie kisses her hand to him.) 

There goes my heart. Well! I am indeed a lucky fellow. 
Many a one would give half their fortunes to win a girl like 
that; but I dont think I w^ill have such an easy time m getting 
the old man's consent, but it is worth the trial. 

{Elite} Mr. Rodman.) 

{Charlie}) — Good morning! Mr. Rodman. 

{Mr. Rodman}} — Good morning! Charlie. 

{Charlie}) — I am about to leave the city to-morrow, and 
would ask the hand of your daughter. I love her and will 
try and make her happy. 



{Mr, Rodman, rising^ — Sir! you forget yourself. Give my 
daughter to you! My daughter marry a man who is said to 
hardly own his own name; who can barely support himself. 
Never sir! I may as well tell you sir, I have an offer this 
morning for my daughters hand. 

{Chailic) — But I have her consent already that she loves 
me. 

{Mr. Rodman.) — Love fiddlesticks. Love has nothing to 
do with marriage nowadays. 
{Charlie) — But sir! 

{Mf. Rodman.) — No but sir, I have decided. 
{Chaj lie.) — Mr. Rodman, you do me an injustice, but I will 
not give her up. I will make a name that you will be proud 
to own; yes, one that will make the very earth tremble. (Ex- 
it Charlie excited.) 
{Enters Jennie.) 

[Ml . Rodman,) — So! so! this is the way you love a worth- 
less man by giving your consent before asking me. 

{Jennie) -Ikit, father, I love him. Was it not at the risk of 
his own life that he saved mine. How could I but help but 
love him. 

{Mr. Rodman, gently) — Ta! ta! ta! But, my child, I prom- 
ised your hand to Henry Chase. He is rich. 
{Enter H. Cliast in meantime. 

(//. 6//^^^'.)— Let me plead my own cause. Jennie, I love 
you. I will give you everything you can wish for; horscFj 
carriages — in fact, everything to make you happy. 

{Jennie) — The very sight of him disturbs me. The wishes 
of my fither I would cheerfully comply with, but the repug- 
nance I cannot overcome. No sir! I still refuse. 

{Mr. Rodman) — Do you know th it a mortgage is over my 
head, and that if it l^ not paid we will be driven out of house 
and home into the streets. 

{Jennde.) — And father, would you sell your own flesh and 
blood. Father! anything but that. See! on m^y knees there is 
nothing I would not do. I will give up Charlie. I have al- 



10 

ways been a dutiful daughter to you, but this I cannot, even 
to save you. 

{Ml , Rodman) — Then you refuse to comply with my wish- 
es. 

{Jennie) — I cannot marry him. 

{Mr. Roeiman, excited) — Then out of the house you go; nev- 
er darken my doors again. 

{Jennie) — Oh! father, have you not one spark of pity for me? 

{Mr. Rodman) — No! go! 

{Jennie fises logo to the door) — Henry Chase' when your 
time comes to face your Heavenly Judge, remember the one 
you drove from a fathers heart and home. Good-by father. 
(Weeping.) 

{Mr. Rodi]ian)~-^o\ go! 

{Exit Jennie Weeping. ) 

{Mr. Rodman, turning to H. Chase) — Homeless! Friend- 
less! Childless!. Oh! my God! what have I done? (Falls 
fainting on floor,) 

—CURTAIN- 
ACT II. 
IN THE FAR WEST. 

Scene ist. Tavern Rest. 

{Entei Lung Sing) — Amelico mane no homee 

{Enter Betsy) — Well, you old heathen, what do you want 
now? 

{^Lung Sing) -Bange sent me for clothee for washee. 

{Betsy) — All right, but look here, if I ever ratch you steal- 
ing around here again, I will cut that hair of yourn off Sh! sh! 
[Exit Betsy.] 

{Lnng Sing) — Melico woman no likei me, me no likei her, 
but me likei meligo Vvliisky. Ah! ah! nicligo whisky ver\' 
goode. 

{Enier Betsy) — Here you are, you old heathen, what have 
y ju been steaHng again? 

{Lung Sing) — Me no stcaloc, me on!)- takcc to muclicc }a- 
ho, VAho. 



1 1 

{Betsy) — Get out! you theaving blackguard. 

{finicr miners as Lwig Sing goes ota.) 

{One of Miners)— \Nh7i\. the matter, Betsy? Oh! that black- 
guard was stealing again; bad cess to him. (Miners sit at table.) 

{E7iter Baftgs)—'Qh\ Bb! a stormy night out, pards! I pity 
any poor creature out in such a storm as this, but pards, how 
this night sets my mind back to about two months ago to that 
poor girl I picked up in the snow, but she was thepretiest gal 
I ever laid eyes on; but it struck me how very strange that 
such a delicate creature would be doing out in this howling 
storm in old Dakota. But that was none of my business, so 
Betsy, my wife, just took her in and nursed her back to life, 
but she had a narrow trip from going across River Jordan. 

{Enter H. Chase meantime) — Excuse me, pard, but may I 
ask you what kind of looking woman the one you picked up? 

{Bangs) — But does it interest you any? 

{H Chase) — Yes! it does. 

{Bangs)~M\[Q[\, she was about medium height, blue eyeS 
and golden hair; but say, stranger, do you know anything 
about her? 

{H. Chase)— I dont knovv but if I do, but I might be mista- 
ken; but say, lets have a warmer, all hands. 

{Miners) — We are the boys for that. 

{Bangs) — Wliatyour handle stranger? 

(//. Chase)— \Vh?Xs that? 

(Bangs) — Why! your name of course. Every man has a 
handle. 

(//. Chase) — Oh! Henry Chase at your service. 

{Baiigs) — Well, heres health to you, Mr. Chase! 

{H. Chase) — But pards, what brought me out here I will 
explain. My wife deserted me about two months ago and ran 
away, and I learned from you about tlie girl you picked up. I 
think she is the one I am seeking. 

(Bangs) — You are probably right. I noticed she was ter- 
; ibly frightened as if she was afraid some one was following 
her, and, the strangest thing of all wher the lever set in, .she 
would always speak about begging him not to turn her out. 



1:^ 

(77. Chase) — I can easily explain that. My wife recently 
lost her mind, and she was under the impression that I would 
drive her from her home. (i7. Chase, sits at table, aside) Well , 
indeed I am in luck. Little did I think I would meet her out 
in this wilderness, but I will be revenged on her yet. 

{Enter Charlie, sits at opposite table in disguise) — Landlord- 
can I get accommodation, I have traveled far? 

{Bangs) — You can, pard, the best in Dacata too. 

{Cha} tie, aside) — I have traveled from town to camp in 
hopes of hearing some news of Jennie. Fool that I was to 
leave home so soon, and hear I have reached this dreary place 
and not a tiding can I learn of her whereabouts. When will 
this all end. {Falls asleep,) 

{H. Chase) — Seems to me I recognize that man but cannot 
place him. Ikit say! stranger, wont you try a warmer? 

{Charlie) — \ dont mind if I do. {Aside) Anythingto drive 
these thoughts from my mind. 

(//. Chase go to bar.) 

{Chai lie rises and siajts) — Henry Chase out here! That 
means mischief I must be cautious, 

{All take a drink.) 

{Jiangs, to Charlie) — Been long in this part of the country* 
stranger? Going to locate? 

{Charlie) — No! I have just arrived from the I^ast a few- 
months ago. I struck a rich lead not fir from here. 

{Jiangs) — How does it pan ait? 

( Charlie) — Fi rst Rate . 

{H. Chase) — Lets amuse ourselves, gentlemen, with a friend- 
ly game of cards. 

{Cha]lie) — CQrt7\m\y, anything to pass away the time. 
{Enter Jennie^) 

{Banos) — ]-)Ut you should not come out of your room so 
soon, miss; you are not wt^ll yet. 

{JenKie)~\ know it, but 1 cannot tresspass on your k'n I- 
ness any longer; but believe me, I will al\va3's bo trul>' great- 
ful to you. Henry Chase! you Jiere? 



13 

{H. Chase) — Yes! Jennie. 
' {Je?mie)—¥[^\re I not suffered enough that you should fol- 
low me here? May I ask you how is my father? 

(77. Chaste) — He raves curses on your head, and desires nev- 
er to see your face again. You treated me with scorn, and 
throwed me over for Charles Wilson. Where is he now to 
protect you? I swore to pay you back drop for drop, {H. 
Chase, Uirning to miners) -Gentlemen! this is my wife who I 
told you had deserted me two months ago. 

(/£7^;/zV)— Gentlemen! I beg of you to protect me from this 
insult of this man. I am not his wife. It is he who has caus- 
ed all my misiery. 

(//, 67^^.^^)— Dont mind her! She is out of her mind, you 
see that she recognizes me, (^.y/^^)-Jennie, it is useless to flut- 
ter. These men are in my pay. 

• {Jennie) — I do not believe a word of it. {turning to Bangs'] 
surely you will not let him insult me any longer? 

{Bangs)— YoM see! miss, he recognizes you, and you him, 
and taking in the fact that you are out here by yourself, the 
thing do not look just right. 

{Jennie) — Then there is not one man amongst you all, that 
will protect a helpless and innocent woman? 

{Charlie) — Yes! there is one, {removes disguise, all start) Jen- 
nie! 

{Je7inii) — Charlie! save me-, 

{H. Chase) — Charles Wilson, by all thats powerful, but you 
will not have her, [rushes at him with a knife] [Charlie catch- 
es his handj Not so quick, Henry Chase, remember that two 
can play at that game. [Terrible duel with knives.] [Char- 
lie disarms Henry, who falls.] 

{H. Chase) — Strike! Charles Wilson, I expect no mercy from 
you. 

{Charlie) — No! I never strike a man when he is down. Take 
your life besides. You are not fit to die; but, beware how you 
cross my path again. Come Jennie. 

SCENE II. 
IN THE WOODS. 



14 

(Jennie and Charlie.) 

Jennie) — When will this all end? For three long hours, 
ever since we missed the road we have been wandering ia 
these dreary woods. 

{C/imlie) — Cheer up! Jennie, there is yet a brighter future 
in store for us yet. 
: {Jennie) — Would that I could believe it. 

{Charlie) — Tell me of all your troubles since you left home 

{Jennie) — It is a very long story to tell. When my father 
drove me from home, I wandered I know not where from town 
to camp in hopes of throwing that man off my track, for I fell 
that I was being followed. I had a little money saved up 
which I had with me, but alas, that soon gave out, and, one 
night I found myself in front of a tavern. I could go no furth- 
er. I cried for help, but it seems that no one heard me, unth 
at last; which seemed eternity of time, some one found mc 
You know the rest. For two months I was delirious and rav- 
ed with the fever, and then you found me. But tell me how 
did you learn of my whereabouts? 

{CJiarlie) — My story is something like yours. When I left 
Charleston, I wandered to the mines, and, while working one 
day, I found a nugget; the largest ever found in that section 
The claim I bought I made well on it, but then I received word 
that your father had driven you from home on my account, 
since then I have looked for yoy everywhere until I felt giv- 
ing up to dispear until I reached the tavern, and there met 
Henry Chase. He did not recognize me, but I would know 
him even an.ongst a thousand; but Jennie, what ails you? 

{Jennie) — It is nothing. A walk will do me good. 

[Charlie) — Come then. [Exit.] 
SCENE III. 

Lung Sing's Home. 

{Lnng Sing) — Some one comei up the roadi, a stranger too, 
me just go hide and watch behind the rock. 

{H. Chase) — Just the spot for a deed! Beaten when I 
thought victory in my grasp; but the game is not full played 
vet. 



15 

■ {Enter Miner)— '^h\ 
:{H. Chase)— \V\\^ts\h^\.7 

{Miner)— lis only me, Pistol Pete. 

{H. C/iase) — Well! what have you got to say? * 

{Afi?ier) — The couple is not far down in the woods. Seems 
they have lost their way. 

{H. 67/^^:5^)— So much the .betier; it will be easier work* 
Have you seen anything of that Chinee around here? 

{Miner) — No! he must be gone down to the tevern. 

(77. Chase) — Have you your pistols ready? Remember there 
must be no mistake, and dont harm her whatever you do. 

{Mine}) — Never fear! I have not got the name of Pistol Pete 
for nothing; sh! sh! here they come, lets us hide behind these 
trees. {Exit behinei trees'.) 

{Enter Chaidie and Je7ime.) 

{Jennie) — See! there is a iiouse, Some one must live there, 

{Charlie) — We are indeed saved. 

{Jennie) — Look there! 

[Charlie turns. A pistol shot is fired, hits Charlie; falls down 
a ravine.] 

{H. Chase) — Jennie, again you are in my power. You slip- 
ped away befoie, but you will have no one to aid you now. 

{Jennie) — Never! sir, while I have a breath of life; back! you 
murderer, before you take me I will kill you, {levels a pair of 
pistols) 

{H. Chase, starts, turns to minef) — You go around to that^ 
boulder while I attract her attention, and then crawl upon her. 
[Just then Lung Sing is seen carrying Charlie up the rocks .] 

{Jennie) — Thank Heaven! he is saved. 

{Lmig Sing) — Chinaman goode for something after all. 

(//. Chase, rushes at him) 

{Lung Sing) — No you dont! {^Levels a pistol at him.'] 
CURTAIN, 
ACT HL 
IN CHARLESTON. 

Scene in Mr. Rodman's House. 

{Susan) — Poor master! How broken hearted he seems ever 



16 

since he turned poor Miss Jennie out of her home, but that all 

comes of having two lovers at one time. I dont blame her a 

bit for not wanting to marry that Henry Chase just because 

he is rich and has plenty of money. 

, .,,.:. Song by Susan. 

LULLABY. 

< >iiov/ idtaia Taken from Kirke, White's Poem. 

The Dying Convict Mother to her Child. 

Translated by E. Opdebeeck. Music by Hoffman. 

Sleep baby mine, not long thou shalt have me, 
Thy cr'es pierce again my bleeding breast, 
Sleep baby mine, though part I must from thee 
So sleep baby mine, a sleep again. 

2 

Sleep baby mine, why keep complaining? 
Long from my eyes slumber has fled. 
Sleep baby mine, the night is waning 
So sleep baby mine, a sleep again. 

3 
Sleep baby mine, to-morrow I leave thee 
Who then Vv^ill sooth thee while a^trest? 
Sleep baby mine, ere long I be leaving thee 
So sleep baby mine, a sleep again. 
Chorus Sleep a bye baby, sleep again 
Sleep my darling till at rest. 
Who then will sooth thee while I am sleeping? 
So sleep my darling, sleep again. 
{E?iter H. Chase) — Is Mr. Rodman in? Susan. 
{Susan) — Yes sir. [^aside] speak of his imps and he'll appear. 
[Exit.] 

{H. Chase) — Beaten and by a poor fellow. I thought I held 
the winning cards with the mortgage over his head; but I'll get 
even with him yet. Curse him for it. I'm a bad man when I 
am aroused. I will make somebody pay dearly yet for my 
misfortune. Why does he not come? 

{Enter Mr. Rodman) — Well sir! what have you got to say? 
I wish you to be brief; you who have caused me all my sor- 



row; through you I turned my own child out into the world — 
may be to die. 

{H. Chase) — I cause you to turn her out? ' 

{Mr, Rodviaii) — Yes! you. Do you dare deny it? 

(i/. Chase) — I deny nothing. Did I not offer you a receipt 
for the mortgage and ^5.000? 

{]\h\ Rodinaii) — Would you dare insult me still by telling 
me of that which has made my hair turn gray. There's the 
door; now leave! 

(77. Chase) — Leave? 

{Mr. Rodmaii — Yes! As you made me drive my own child 
I now drive you. 

{H. 0^5^)— Well! so be it; but I'll show you what kind a 
man I am by foreclosing you. 

{Mr. Rodinaii) — You can as soon as you like. 

{Exit H. Chase.) 

{Mr. Rodman, sitting at table) — Two months that seems two 
years since I drove my child out into the cold world. Would 
that I could retrace those two months since then. I have suf- 
fered the tortures of hell. Oh! Jennie, can you forgive an er- 
ring father. But! alas, where can I find her? [Falls asleep,'] 

{Enter Jennie and thai lie) 

{Jennie) — Father! oh father; see! at your knees I am kneel 
ing. Can you forgive your erring child? 

{3Ir. Rodman) — Who is that that speaks to me? I thought 
^t was my Jennie come back to me again from the grave, But 
no! it was but a dream. Wliy should she come back to one 
who has brought all this sorrow on her? 

{Jennie) — Yes father! it is your own Jennie come back to 
you again. 

{Mr. Rodman) — Am I dreaming, or is it really my Jennie? 

(Jennie] — Yes! father. 

[Mr. Rodman] — God be praised for this joy. 

[Embraces hei.] 

[Jennie] —But father! there is one who you must thank too; 

Charlie. 

[iWr. Rodman] — Charlie! for I must call you that, I suppose. 



IS 

Can you forgive me for what I hav^ done to you. I was not 
myself when I said those words. 

\^Charlie\—yi\'» Rodman! I do with all my heart on one con- 
didon. 

\Mr. Rodma7i\—Ai\d that? 

^Charlie] — That you give me your daughter and your bless- 
ing. 

[_Mf. Rodmaiil—Y o\x have both, Charlie! Would that I 
could show my gratitude more; but Jennie, sing me that song 
that you and Charlie used to sing so well. 

"NEATH THOSE SHADED Py\LMETTO TREES." 
Words by E.Optebee^.k, Music by Hoffman. 

We wandered by the placid stream' 
In the spring time long ago, 
Where its waters ripple on 
Neath those shaded palmetto trees. 
As the moonbeams gently beams 
Flings its radiance over more, 
Lifts the gloom that shadow on 
As we wander you and me. 

2 

'Tis years since last we parted 

As the waters glide between. 

And the wind softly sighed 

Neath those shaded palmetto trees. 

And as memory drifts to days we parted 

As we wandered by the stream, 

Till at last we are united 

As we wander you and me. 
\_CharUe\ — I told you I would make a name for myself; one 
that you would be proud of — that would make the earth trem- 
ble. 

\_Earihqiiake Scene?\ 

[Mr, Rodman~\—l!{y God! what is that? 

[Charlie\ - Axi earthquake! out of the house quick. 

[Change of scenery. Just as they rush in the street, house 



19 

falls on them. Charlie carries Jennie in the middle of the 
street. People is seen rushing out of houses.] 

\_Charlie, bending over J ennic\ — Dead! dead! and I should 
live to see this! Only a few moments ago so happy and this is 
the end of my dream of life. Poor Charleston! How hard 
the hand ot fate has dealt with her. Bombarded by Gilmore's 
guns; swept by fire, storms, cyclone, and now wrecked by an 
earthquake. I feel as if I must have water, my tongue feels on 
fire. Water! water! help! or I'll go mad, help! ah! ah! {falls 
fainting in sireet\ Jennie! Jennie! speak to me one word; dead! 
dead. {Falls dead.'] 

CURTAIN. 
THE END. 



